Feed me Seymore!

In the last blog I mentioned that our local pheasant asked nicely for his breakfast.  Well this morning he showed the other side of his character.

There was no sign of him when I went to wake up the chickens this morning.  I had put their various food dishes down, opened the pophole and watched while some came out voluntarily and others were hustled out by Fizz.   As usual, Pom-Pom and the broody Tu-Tu took no notice of him whatsoever and stayed put.

I opened the nest box lid to find the recalcitrant duo sitting there looking stubborn.  I picked Pom-Pom out and plopped her in front of her favourite food dish, then went back to collect Tu-Tu.  I had just deposited her on the ground by my feet when a series of loud, raucous squawks assaulted my ears.  It was the pheasant, marching up and down the garden wall, yelling at me to get myself out of the chicken run and sort his breakfast out.   NOW!!!!!!!!!

Well I know my place.   I grabbed a handful of layers pellets, which I know he enjoys, and flew (not literally) out to put them on the wall for him.  He didn't even say "thankyou", just got his head down and started wrapping his beak round his breakfast.

When I went back into the run, Tu-Tu was sitting exactly where I'd left her.   The bloody-minded little madam was going to be broody, come hell or high water.  If that meant staying put outside, then so be it!   But she relented when I put her in front of a dish of her favourite mash; she quickly got stuck in before anyone else tried to pinch it from her.

With everyone sorted, I trundled back to the house for a well-deserved cuppa.